<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Recognition by Dr_Roslin</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161159">Recognition</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Roslin/pseuds/Dr_Roslin'>Dr_Roslin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Battlestar Galactica (2003), Battlestar Galactica - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, No Pregnancy, Safe to Read if Triggered by Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2015-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:15:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Roslin/pseuds/Dr_Roslin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I loved Choosing Sarah's Reunion, https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4661696/1/Reunion-The-Beta-Version. It's a Kara/Lee saga, involving time travel and a return to the Caprica of Before the Fall. I love it. Who knew people could write Viper scenes like that? I'm not sure she's still continuing the series, but in any case, I wrote a couple of responses. I hope she doesn't mind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adama/Roslin, Lee "Apollo" Adama &amp; William Adama, Lee "Apollo" Adama/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Recognition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>LiveJournal Import, Condensed Original Notes follow: </p><p>I loved Choosing Sarah's <i>Reunion</i>, <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4661696/1/Reunion-The-Beta-Version">https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4661696/1/Reunion-The-Beta-Version</a>. It's a Kara/Lee saga, involving time travel and a return to the Caprica of Before the Fall. I love it.  Who knew people could write Viper scenes like that? I'm not sure she's still continuing the series, but in any case, I wrote a couple of responses. I hope she doesn't mind.</p><p> I kept waiting, increasingly impatient, for Adama to show up and when he shows up in chapter 19 I'm grinning like an idiot, only... what? That's NOT my Adama.</p><p>Throughout the series, the Apollo warns Starbuck that Adama was a different man before Zak's death. It's a deliberate choice, and I think a good one. As I love the Adama Angst, I love this dynamic. It's Adama's coldness towards Starbuck which causes the ache in my heart. To be fair, he's never met her, as it's a time travel fic, but still... it hurts.</p><p>So. The following response popped into my head. And then Roslin's did. And then... it just kept going. Adama can still become <i>our </i>Adama while keeping both sons, right? Of course right.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a id="cutid1" name="cutid1"></a>
</p><p>Bill had to remind himself not to growl at the assembled dignitaries. He hated attending these affairs, and tonight he wasn’t the mood to pretend. He sighed. It would help if they served anything at Presidential events other than champagne. He hated champagne.  He shifted, unwilling to leave his safe spot in the corner to forage for something stronger. He’d give it another hour, to satisfy the demands of Admiral Nagala,that he attend. Then he’d escape.</p><p>He wondered if Zak was still up. Humph. The kid was 20. He’d be up. The question was whether he’d hear his cell over whatever dance music was playing in whatever club he was in this Saturday night. He’d give it a try, though. He wanted to talk to his youngest son. Maybe he could help him make sense out of whatever the hell was going on with his eldest.</p><p>
  <i>Damn, Lee. What the hell are you thinking? </i>
</p><p>Not for the first time, he wished could break through to his son. Wished he could find a way through that shell of his, get him to listen. He knew it was partially his fault; after five minutes with Lee, he often had to resist the urge to grab him by the collar and shake him. Why couldn’t he be more like Zak? Zak had fire, don’t get him wrong. He was quick to anger, way quicker than Lee. Carolanne had always said Zak was Bill’s son in that regard, they both quicker to anger, both quicker to forgive. Still, Zak actually seemed to listen sometimes.<br/>
<br/>
Sometimes Bill wondered whether they should have had Lee’s ears tested to make sure they worked properly.</p><p>He never listened. Not to mention the fact that he just flat out refused to explain what he was thinking. He just refused to let whatever was in that fool head of his out. Bill could see the gears working in Lee’s mind, but it was as if his son shut down in front of him. Still, he could read him better than he thought. It was clear as day that Lee was hiding something from him.</p><p>Something serious.</p><p>It had to be serious, given where his head was at. Headquarters? What the frak was that boy thinking? Turning down early admission to War College? The frak? Lee had struggled for that spot, earned it, and now was just going to throw it away? Bill knew his son better than he thought he did. He was meant to fly. He’d atrophy at HQ.</p><p>He knew that Lee often resented what he saw as pressure regarding his career path, resented being cast in his father’s shadow, but the truth was that Bill understood his son’s concerns. He understood what it was like to want to find your own path. It was one of the reasons he’d joined the service, become Husker, the Viper pilot, not William Adama, Supreme Court Justice.</p><p>Still, Lee had always been driven by his own ambition as much as by Bill’s pressure.  Yes, Lee was more political than he was, took more after his grandfather and Carolanne’s family, but he was still twenty-two. And when he flew… he was lightning in a bottle. He’d wanted War College, that had been clear, and if ever anyone was meant to fly, it was Lee Adama. The test results from the sims alone made that clear. They were talk of the Admiralty. He was meant to fly. Even if Lee hadn’t been his son, Bill would still have been concerned to see such natural talent wasting away at HQ.</p><p>And that was before this previous week. The rumors coming out of the Academy regarding Lee’s off-duty flying… Phenomenal was the word used most. Hell, they’d started calling him Apollo. Son of Zeus. Son of Husker. Bill grimaced internally. They’d clearly pulled up some of his old sims, ones where he was young and foolish and liked to showboat. Part of him was proud of that… Hell, who was he kidding? He was immeasurably proud of that. Both of his son’s prowess in the air and of the fact that Lee’s call sign harkened back to the reputation Bill had earned in the air. They’d called him a prodigy, and his son was nearly as good.</p><p>What was Lee thinking? Could it be that blond flying with him? Starbuck?</p><p>
  <i>Wait, how did he know her call sign?</i>
</p><p>Lee swore it wasn’t infatuation over this girl, Kara, that had distracted him. The truth was, it would be out of character for Lee to get distracted by a girl, even one Bill could see sparked all over him. Bill could see, though, this wasn’t any girl…maybe Lee had his head turned? The rumors regarding her flying were almost as extraordinarily as Lee’s; better even, when it came to flying outside of the box. They speculated that if she could have gone up wing to wing with Husker, she might have given him a run for his money.</p><p>There was just something about that girl... Surely he hadn’t come across her before? Something about her… The way she stood, the way she moved… The way she looked at him, expecting… something… from him… Like she knew what he was going to say before he said it. The way she watched him and Lee, like she knew them both better than they knew themselves…</p><p>Just something about her. Standing in her living room, that other night, he had to fight the urge to slump on her couch, ask her for a drink, and beg her to explain what the hell was going on with his son. And he’d only just met her. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure how long Lee had known her. The way they were together, you’d think years somehow, but you’d think Bill would have heard about her before now if that had been the case. Lee may not tell him everything, but a girl that remarkable… a relationship that was clearly that close… you’d think her name would have come up.</p><p>And there was something about the way the two of them had held themselves, standing in Kara’s bohemian apartment. While he didn’t know how old Starbuck, (Kara!) was, Lee was only twenty-two. They were both barely out of the Academy. So then, why did they hold themselves like combat veterans? They were both babies, why did he instinctively know that they could handle themselves in the air? Why did he sense that they had both been in The Shit? Who would they have fought? The Colonies had been at peace with the Cylons for decades…</p><p>
  <i>Damn it, Lee. Talk to me. </i>
</p><p>Bill looked at his watch, again. He wanted to call Zak.</p><p>Maybe even Carolanne. He grimaced. Maybe not. They’d been getting better, lately, but there was still too much scar tissue there. Plus, Lee irritated him the most when he reminded him of Carolanne’s side of the family.</p><p>Best be safe. Stick with Zak.</p><p>He’d always been the peacemaker in the family, the only one who could explain Lee to his father and vice-versa. It was funny, that he’d gotten that role in the family, that of a peacemaker. Everyone always said he was Bill’s son the way Lee was Carolanne’s. And no one he’d ever met had ever described Bill Adama as a natural peacemaker. He’d always been a little too much of a rogue. He’d always had to work on that, work on tamping down his natural urge to jump before he looked, work on following his head as well as his gut...</p><p>Suddenly a flicker of color caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A slight redhead in a slate gray ball gown was moving through the crowd, heading towards President Adar.</p><p>
  <i>There you are…</i>
</p><p>
  <a id="cutid1-end" name="cutid1-end"></a>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Lightning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was going to kill the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol.</p>
<p>She wondered idly what penalties were listed on the books for doing violence to a sitting President. It didn’t matter, though. She fully intended to strangle him. Richard Adar had finally gone too far.</p>
<p>In the back of her mind, she knew she should be worried about the penalties for planning bloody murder, nevermind the reaction of the Secret Service agents in the room, but she really didn’t. Besides, she wasn’t really sure the agents would try to stop her.</p>
<p>
  <i>Maybe if she just walked up to Adar and shook him, just shook him, really hard?<i></i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>She bet they’d let her. She’d never gotten the impression that they were eager to protect him, although they were always professional.</i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>Including that time that agent had caught them at it in the men’s washroom.<i></i></i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Laura Roslin grimaced. Now that had been a mistake of epic proportions. She’d never thought she would be stupid enough to start an affair with her boss.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>Still, that was a mistake easily fixed, particularly after the events of today. She’d thought she and Richard understood each other, and during his run for the Presidency they’d worked so well together… Thus, the mistake on her part.</i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>Smart, Laura, real smart.<i> An affair with your married boss. Your married boss who also happens to be the <i>President. Real smart.<i></i></i></i></i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>Well, she had to look to the future. A future where she wasn’t sleeping with the slimy jackass. Not only did it turn out he was <i>also<i> sleeping with his nineteen year old receptionist, which was just, <i>ewww<i>, but he was also spying on the teacher’s union. Which was just stupid, as far as she was concerned, since they were locked into their contract for another six years, and perfectly happy on top of that.</i></i></i></i></i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>Laura Roslin did not do stupid. She was done with Richard Adar. First, she intended to eviscerate him. And then she was going to dump him. Let him figure out what to tell his wife when Laura stopped showing up at family weekends at the cottage.</i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>Maybe he could bring his receptionist instead.<i></i></i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>Moving purposefully through the crowd, she spotted Richard near the Juliet doors leading to the patio. Perfect. Maybe she could maneuver him out of doors. She might be able to convince him that she was in a mood to rendezvous.</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>She wanted some privacy while she watched him bleed.</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>‘Mr. President.’</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>‘Madame Secretary,’ he said as he went in for the cheek kiss. ‘Good to see you, Laura.’ He leaned in closer. ‘If I have to suffer through any more of this alone, I might pass out.’</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>‘Mr. President, if we might find a quiet place to talk – ’</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>‘Of course, of course, let me just finish up with the delegates from Aerilon, and then we can find a quiet place to … talk.’</i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>She could feel his eyes burning through her silver ball gown. A few days ago, she might have found his smoldering look enticing, but right now… <i>ewww<i>. Struggling to keep her face impassive, she shuddered internally.</i></i></i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>‘Of course.’</i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>The delegates from Aerilon appeared to have gotten distracted by the champagne. When Laura tried to stir her erstwhile boss outside, though, he proved intractable, moving closer to her in the guise of struggling to hear her voice over the crowd.</i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>Great. He’s turned on by the idea of getting away with groping me in public.<i></i></i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>She shifted quickly away. ‘Mr. President, we need to discuss the allegations that are coming out of the Teacher’s Union regarding interference by your office – ’</i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>Not to mention the allegations that are coming out of your office regarding your dealings with your support staff…<i></i></i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>‘Oh, Laura, <i>relax<i>, enjoy the party. We’ll take a long lunch on Monday, discuss it more thoroughly.’</i></i></i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>‘We’ll discuss it, <i>now<i>. And I don’t think we’ll be having <i>lunch<i>, ever again.’</i></i></i></i></i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>‘Now, Laura, don’t be like that. You know you can’t believe everything you hear - ’</i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>‘Mr. President – ’</i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>She could hear her voice rising and had to remind herself that they were in the middle of a Presidential reception. <i>Hold it together, Roslin.<i> She couldn’t strangle him in public. Wondering if she should just say frak it, and just start yelling at him openly , she saw his eyes pass over her shoulder to a uniformed Colonial Officer standing just outside the fray.</i></i></i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>
                                                      <i>
                                                        <i>Great. Now she’d lost him. Adar hated confrontations. He was going to use this poor schmuck to get out of a potential scene with her.</i>
                                                      </i>
                                                    </i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>
                                                      <i>
                                                        <i>‘Commander…?’ Adar called out to him.</i>
                                                      </i>
                                                    </i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>
                                                      <i>
                                                        <i>The officer immediately stood at attention and she got a good look at him for the first time.</i>
                                                      </i>
                                                    </i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>
                                                      <i>
                                                        
                                                      </i>
                                                    </i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>
        <i>
          <i>
            <i>
              <i>
                <i>
                  <i>
                    <i>
                      <i>
                        <i>
                          <i>
                            <i>
                              <i>
                                <i>
                                  <i>
                                    <i>
                                      <i>
                                        <i>
                                          <i>
                                            <i>
                                              <i>
                                                <i>
                                                  <i>
                                                    <i>
                                                      <i>
                                                        <i>
                                                          <i>At last…<i></i></i>
                                                        </i>
                                                      </i>
                                                    </i>
                                                  </i>
                                                </i>
                                              </i>
                                            </i>
                                          </i>
                                        </i>
                                      </i>
                                    </i>
                                  </i>
                                </i>
                              </i>
                            </i>
                          </i>
                        </i>
                      </i>
                    </i>
                  </i>
                </i>
              </i>
            </i>
          </i>
        </i>
      </i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Obligations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As I think I've mentioned, there is no universe or timeline I can imagine where Laura Roslin and William Adama don't fight the minute they meet. It's just canon for me.</p><p> Clearly, I loved the enemies-to-lovers trope before I ever knew what it was. I think it's the equality aspect. True enemies, the ones I can't stop watching/reading, are equals and treat each other that way. Thus, even if they change their relationship, the respect is already there. Or at least, that's the way it goes in my brain. Respect, equality and verbal - and/or actual - fencing. Hard to say no :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Now why had he thought that? </p><p>She was attractive enough, striking, beautiful even, about forty, and with that glorious hair she stood out from the crowd. Still. He knew without knowing how, even from across the crowded ballroom, that her eyes were the green of spring grass. Still. He also knew without knowing how, even from across the crowded ballroom, that her legs were spectacular. Even though the ball gown reached the floor he knew, really <em>knew</em>, that her legs were something to write home about it. </p><p>Still. He recognized her easily, and he had no idea why the sight of Laura Roslin, the Secretary of Education, would cause this dogged <em>need</em> deep in his gut. He didn’t know her, he’d never seen her before, although he naturally knew who she was. Adar’s cabinet was large, perhaps unnecessarily so, but Bill had done his homework before coming here tonight. He’d wanted to make sure he could recognize the major players. And she was a player.</p><p>So. Why would he have to remind himself that he wasn’t looking for that type of entanglement? Wasn’t looking for any type of entanglement, really. Why would he have to remind himself of that fact every time he looked for her, searched the room for her? Why did he have to remind himself not to panic every time he couldn’t immediately find her in the crowd? She wasn’t anyone to him. He didn’t know her, probably would never know her. She wasn’t his type, anyway. He’d always preferred blondes, much good it had done him. </p><p>Plus, he could tell from across the room that she was trouble. Bossy and opinionated.  Ready to challenge him at every turn. </p><p>He knew he was lying to himself. Still. He told himself he wasn’t looking to hook up with a bleeding-heart liberal from Adar’s cabinet.</p><p>Anyway, it was unlikely she’d even bother to give him the time of day. </p><p>He was just an old warhorse, a battlestar Commander unlikely to advance to Admiral. Especially after he had failed spectacularly at his last assignment.  Bulldog’s loss haunted him, his final words echoing in Bill’s head, night after night. He’d failed, and Bulldog had paid the price. Bill wasn’t looking forward to his meeting with the Admiralty next week; he’d have to face the music, and he knew that he’d likely lose the <em>Valkyrie</em>. Who knew what assignment they’d stick him with as a way of easing him out of his career. He couldn’t believe it how badly he'd frakked up. Fifty-two and washed up. </p><p>He was in no position to go looking for the type of trouble Laura Roslin represented. Still, without even thinking about it, he found himself leaving his safe anchorage and moving through the crowd towards the President and his Cabinet member. He’d listen to his head another day. In this, he knew, he had to go with his gut.<br/>
</p><p>Watching them as he moved through the crowd, he noticed that Adar moved a little closer to Roslin than strictly necessary. He had known she was a player in Adar’s cabinet... Watching their dynamic now, though, he reconsidered. Maybe she was a bigger player than anyone knew. Rethinking his intentions, he thought of blending into the crowd once again when he noticed that she subtly shifted away from the President.  </p><p>Whatever Adar was trying, she was having none of it. </p><p>Training his attention on Roslin, he noted the tightness around her eyes and the annoyance in the set of her mouth. Despite their lowered voices he could tell they were in the midst of a heated argument. </p><p>As Bill walked up to the couple, he angled away from them, deciding to pull off to the side to wait until Adar and Roslin had finished their conversation. In the meantime he struggled to understand why he felt this overwhelming urge to reach out to her.</p><p>Waiting patiently, he didn’t immediately sense that the President had seen him. </p><p>‘Commander…?’ Adar called out to him. </p><p>Bill immediately stood at attention, silently cursing his inattention. Had he been caught staring? </p><p>‘Adama, sir. Commander Bill Adama. Of the <em>Valkyrie</em>.’</p><p>‘Of course. Commander Adama. I need your help.’</p><p>‘Sir.’ </p><p>Reluctantly, he moved closer, stepping into the circle of their conversation. He noted while he did so the attention he was receiving as the President of the Twelve Colonies singled out an insignificant battlestar Commander. <em>Damn<em>. He was going to get an earful from the Admiralty in the morning. </em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Officers in the Colonial Fleet below the rank of Admiral were supposed to be seen, and not heard.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Secretary Roslin and I were having a discussion. Answer a question for me.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p><em>Frak</em>. He could see where this is going. Adar was clearly trying to draw him into the argument, planning to use him against Roslin. He wasn’t sure why, other than the fact that the gods clearly hated him. There was no way this was going to end well. <em>Damn. Double Damn</em>. He tried to keep his face impassive.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Sir.’  </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p> ‘We were discussing the role of unions in the civil service. Surely, you agree that they’re completely unnecessary for – ’ </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘For teachers?’ Roslin cut in, her mouth tight. Clearly, they’d had this argument before.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘- for any number of non-essential professions?’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p><em>Frak</em>. There was no good way out of this. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Commander?’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘I disagree, sir. Teachers, and those in other civil service professions, have as much right to unionize as any other.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘I see.’ </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p><em>Frak</em>. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>He’d be lucky if the <em>Valkyrie</em> didn’t end up patrolling the clusterfrak nebula for good. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Adar continued. ‘Even the military, I assume?’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘No sir. When a commanding officer gives a lawful order, I obey. Civil service professions, on the other hand, have every right to unionize.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Laura… (<em>Secretary Roslin!</em>) was looking at him with what looked like appreciation. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Thank you, Commander.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Adar clearly wasn’t ready to let it go. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Right to unionize? To organize violent protests? To attack riot police? What kind of message is that to send to our kids, Commander? Madame Secretary?’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘That would obviously be unacceptable.’ </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>He cursed himself. <em>Why couldn’t he just keep his big mouth shut?</em> The tightness had returned to Roslin’s mouth. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Excuse me.’ She turned on her heel and walked away, her back ramrod straight, every inch of her posture expressing her disdain with the both of them. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, that went as well as you’d expect.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>He turned politely to Adar, resisting the urge to smack the frakking smirk off his face. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>‘Commander.’</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Adar turned to the next supplicant agitating for his attention, leaving Bill standing alone in the middle of the ballroom, cursing himself and the President of the Twelve Colonies.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm at @RandomBks.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Expectations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bill isn't the only one who is thirsty.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Keep in mind this is their first meeting.<br/>Or is it?<br/>Mind the work summary and the tags.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>At last…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Now, why had she thought that?</p><p>‘Adama, sir. Commander Bill Adama. Of the <em>Valkyrie</em>.’</p><p>
  <em>Of course. I’ve been waiting. Where have you <strong>been</strong>?</em>
</p><p>She had to stop staring; she wasn’t fifteen anymore. It was like she’d never seen a flyboy before. But<em>. </em></p><p>
  <em>Oh. My. Gods.</em>
</p><p>With the added height of her heels they were almost exactly the same height. She was looking him directly in the eye. And those eyes… were <em>spectacular</em>. The rest of him wasn’t bad either. He was shorter than Adar and broader, sturdier, but still lean with what she somehow knew were great arms and powerful legs.</p><p>Not to mention the shoulders.</p><p><em>What were they feeding them in the Fleet? And can they feed it to </em>everyone<em>? </em></p><p>
  <em>I wonder if he boxes…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mmmm…. Wait, what?</em>
</p><p>On no planet in the Twelve Colonies would Bill Adama be considered classically handsome, but he didn’t need to be. He appeared to be in his early fifties and he was… there was no other way to describe it, he was <em>magnetic</em>. He simply drew her in. She knew, even before he’d opened his mouth, that he could shift whole crowds if he needed to. Maybe it was his voice… deep and dark and husky. He’d only introduced himself, and his voice had vibrated through her entire body.</p><p> ‘Of course.’</p><p>Adar smiled, or at least that was what it would look like to the uninitiated. She recognized his smirk when she saw it.</p><p>‘Commander Adama. I need your help.’</p><p>
  <em>Wake up, Laura. Stop drooling. </em>
</p><p>She had to focus or Richard would maul her.</p><p>‘Sir.’</p><p>He moved into the circle of their conversation, and though she was closer to Adar than she was to him, it was as though he had moved directly into her personal space. She breathed in the smell of him, slightly musky with a hint of citrus.</p><p> ‘Secretary Roslin and I were having a discussion. Answer a question for me.’</p><p> ‘Sir.’ </p><p>‘We were discussing the role of unions in the civil service. Surely, you agree that they’re completely unnecessary for – ’</p><p>‘For teachers?’ Roslin cut in.</p><p>She couldn’t help it. She knew what Richard was doing, but still. They’d had this fight too many times.</p><p> ‘- for any number of low-risk professions?’</p><p>Adama didn’t even hesitate.</p><p>‘No.’</p><p>‘Commander?’</p><p>‘I disagree, sir. Teachers, and those in other civil service professions, have as much right to unionize as any other.’</p><p>‘I see.’ Richard paused.</p><p>She could see that Richard would like to strangle the man standing in front of him. He didn’t like to be contradicted, particularly by someone he considered beneath him. She smirked. Idly, she wondered if Richard had put two and two together regarding the man’s family background. She knew Joseph Adama’s reputation as a civil liberties lawyer, though there were also hints of Tauron mob connections. She didn’t doubt Bill Adama was as tough as his father was rumoured to be.</p><p>Adar continued. ‘Even the military, I assume?’</p><p>‘No sir. When a commanding officer gives a lawful order, I obey. Civil service professions, on the other hand, have every right to unionize.’</p><p>Mentally she kicked herself. Just because he was military didn’t mean he was reactionary or thick-headed.</p><p>‘Thank you, Commander.’</p><p>As he took a sip of champagne the wedding ring on his left hand caught the light.</p><p>
  <em>That’s not right.</em>
</p><p>Still.</p><p>She couldn’t, <em>wouldn’t</em> do it, again – no wait, there’d been gossip… A few years back. His wife, no his <em>ex</em>-wife, Carolanne Adama… her family was powerful in their own right… it had been a powerhouse union, the Adamas and the …(<em>what were their names?)</em> It had made the business news when <em>Colonel</em> Bill Adama of the Colonial Fleet and his wife had split.</p><p>
  <em>Thank the gods. </em>
</p><p>Still, she hadn’t the faintest clue why she felt she’d dodged a bullet.</p><p>Richard, oblivious to her wool-gathering, was back on the attack.</p><p>‘Right to unionize? To organize violent protests? To attack riot police? What kind of message is that to send to our kids, Commander? Madame Secretary?’</p><p>‘That would obviously be unacceptable.’</p><p>The stupid man gave her look like she was twelve and took another swallow of his champagne.</p><p>
  <em>Frak this. </em>
</p><p>She struggled to keep her voice even.</p><p>‘Excuse me,’ she bit out.</p><p>She turned on her heel and walked away, trying with every ounce of her will to keep from screaming at both of them. She was <em>done</em>. Tomorrow she’d make Richard realize the mistake he’d made by messing with her people. In the meantime, she couldn’t stand there another minute.</p><p>Quickly though, as the Caprican night air fluttered in her face, her temper cooled. <em>Damn it</em>. She’d been downright rude. And now she felt like an ass.  It wasn’t Adama’s fault that he’d been dragged into that stupid argument. It was bad enough they used the poor guy to score points against each other. Given their positions, he’d had little say in the matter. He’d held his own, but still… It had been unprofessional, not to mention malicious. She had no right to blame him for the entire debacle on top of that.</p><p>
  <em>Damn it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Double damn it.</em>
</p><p>There was no way around it. She owed him an apology. And she’d better do it tonight; else she’d probably never have another chance.</p><p>She made a face.</p><p>Alright, she’d take her medicine and then she’d head home for a stiff drink and her warm bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Are we all re-watching BSG while we stay at home? You know we are.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Connections</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He left soon afterwards, determined to salvage at least part of the evening. At least his hotel room was private. He’d curl up with a book and the good scotch he’d bought after the initial meeting with the Admiralty.</p><p>He walked quickly through the Presidential palace, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Everyone else was still in the ballroom, preparing to party until dawn. Lost in his thoughts of Lee and the mysterious Laura Roslin, he didn’t hear the quick click of stilettos coming up behind him.</p><p>‘Commander.’</p><p><em>Damn it.</em> He’d already screwed up with her. And she wasn’t exactly an easy woman to get along with. She was still trouble, and he had no idea what was going on with her and Adar. He hadn’t the faintest notion why he felt this overwhelming need to find her. Still, he reminded himself that his gut wasn’t often wrong in this regard. For one thing, he should have known marriage to Carolanne was bound to end up in disaster.</p><p><em>Focus Husker</em>. He would need all his wits about him to deal with Roslin. He slowed and turned to watch her hurry up to him. He noted that she was still upset, the anger still radiating off her in waves. She had a look on her face of someone planning to do something distinctly unpleasant.</p><p>‘If I could have a moment.’</p><p>‘Madame Secretary.’</p><p>‘I, ahh...’ he saw her swallow, hard, before moving on awkwardly. ‘I was hoping to catch you, to, uh,’ she swallowed again, ‘to apologize.’</p><p>He stood, still as a statue before her, wondering where this was going.</p><p>‘I was insufferably rude, and I wanted to apologize.’</p><p>He really should put her out of her misery, but although he knew it was low of him, he was enjoying this.</p><p>‘Anyway. I just, wanted to tell you, I’m sorry.’</p><p>She waited for a moment before her shoulders slumped, just as a fraction, as she turned away, the anger draining from her.</p><p>‘Secretary Roslin…’</p><p>She turned back. ‘Yes?’</p><p>He didn’t know why he couldn’t let her go.</p><p>‘Does that apology come with a drink?’</p><p>He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop staring at her smile.</p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>It was only that he’d been waiting so long to see it.</p><p>He shouldn’t have been surprised that she drove as smoothly as she moved. Driving into downtown Caprica City, he found it difficult not to stare, found it difficult not to reach out and touch her as her subtle scent filled the small interior of her vehicle. His hotel reservation came with parking; he waited until she expertly manoeuvred the car into the assigned spot before shepherding her into the bar. He fought the urge to place his hand on the small of her back protectively as she walked in front of him. He had to fight the sense that his hand belonged there. He wished he’d thought of somewhere classier; he didn’t want anyone to think less of her, walking with a stranger into his hotel bar. Still, he couldn’t believe his luck. She’d said yes.</p><p>The next few hours passed in a blur of laughter and heady conversation. It turned out they had the same taste in a lot of things, particularly books, particularly Edward Prima. He had to shush her, though, when she started to discuss <em>Searider Falcon. But it’s a</em> <em>classic</em>, she’d protested. Though he was afraid she’d laugh, he’d had to admit that he’d never wanted to spoil his enjoyment of his favourite book by finishing it. It turned out she’d always loved it. She put it next on her list to re-read, and he eagerly agreed to re-read it with her so they could discuss it. He still refused to finish it, though.</p><p>‘No spoilers.’ He warned her.</p><p>‘No spoilers.’ She promised.</p><p>They shut down the bar but the hotel’s coffee shop was open twenty four hours. Hands wrapped around plastic to go containers they walked along the nearby promenade by the lake. It was too cold, she had to be freezing in her ball gown, heels, and hooded evening cloak, but her enthusiasm didn’t seemed to be dampened by the chill. She shivered a bit, and he moved closer, seeking to warm her with his closeness, wondering if he dared wrap his arm around her, warm her hands in his. Finally, he gave in, hoping she wouldn’t reject him. She snuggled into his side as they walked back to the hotel just as the sun came up.</p><p>Escorting her to her car, he made she was safely strapped in, the doors locked and the engine running. He watched as the taillights faded into the glow of the dawn light as she drove away. He regretted not kissing her already. There was always tomorrow, or rather, tonight, he reassured himself. She’d promised to meet him for dinner.</p><p>Taking the elevator up to his room on the eighth floor, he decided to sleep for a few hours before he called Zack. He’d pushed the problem of Lee aside while he was in Laura’s intoxicating presence, but the reality was he still wasn’t sure what his eldest son was up to, and time wasn’t on his side. </p><p>
  <em>I wonder if Laura knows what Lee is up to.</em>
</p><p>Now, <em>where the hell</em> had that thought come from?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was mostly a writing exercise for me (mainly with getting Zac straight in my head - he shows up in later fics), and an homage, so I thought I might end it here, there's a natural end to it. I hope you enjoyed some of my rambles through the dynamics of the Adama clan, and you'll forgive me for indulging me a little. I do love this Kara and this Lee so much. Love their connection SO much. In the meantime, have a lovely Friday, take care of one another, and, as we say in 2020, stay safe in these unprecedented times. Seriously. Historians are going to find this phrase everywhere - it's the motto for the long 2020. "What's up with 2020?" They'll ask. "It's all uncertain times and solidarity." Well, it's a nice thought, anyway :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘How long are you going to try to hide me?’</p><p>He snorted.</p><p>‘As if I could.’</p><p>She smiled. She’d made her point. It helped that he acknowledged it.</p><p>‘Just making sure.’</p><p>‘Once you meet my family, though, you may want to run.’</p><p>‘It can’t be that bad.’</p><p>She snuggled into his couch, her feet tucked beneath her, his throw and his scent wrapped around her, her drink sitting largely ignored on the table beside her. </p><p>‘You have no idea.’</p><p>‘You told me you have two ‘half-grown’ sons, right?’</p><p>He smiled wryly.</p><p>‘Your words, not mine.’</p><p>‘Yeah, well, they <em>are</em> half-grown. At least, Zac. Lee, I don’t know what’s going with Lee…’</p><p>‘What do you mean?’</p><p>‘When I saw him last, it was like he was someone else entirely… he’s hiding something from me.’</p><p>‘It’s not unusual for sons to hide things from their fathers.’</p><p>‘It’s more than that – it’s something… something serious…’</p><p>‘You can’t get him to open up?’</p><p>‘Lee has always been difficult, hard for me to read. I never know what he’s thinking.’</p><p>She smiled. ‘A man who cold stump the famous ‘Husker’ gut. I can’t wait to meet him.’</p><p>‘Hummph. Be careful what you wish for. Zac you’ll love. Everyone loves Zac.’</p><p>***</p><p>It turns out he was the living image of Bill. So was Lee, just in a different way… He was quieter, straighter, more contained, more wound up inside… She took to him at once. And his friend, Kara. She loved her immediately, even though they were complete opposites. Lee, Kara… She was so comfortable around them. It was as if she’d known them her entire life.</p><p>Laura had been nervous about this meeting, but that changed within minutes of walking into Kara’s bohemian apartment. Even if she hadn’t felt at home with Starbuck and Captain Apollo, <em>(wait, no, that was wrong, somehow…</em> <em>sounded right though…)</em>, she’d taken one look at Bill’s drawn face and known, just known, that she had to help him through this. Dinner was strained in the beginning, with Lee and his father shooting daggers at each other with their matching, magnificently blue, eyes. It didn’t stay that way long, though, as Kara broke the ice just by being her exuberant self.</p><p>Somehow, just somehow, once they relaxed, they all <em>worked, </em>together. Her and Bill, arguing with the kids and each other over anything and everything. Kara, leaning into Lee’s touch despite herself. Starbuck, being Starbuck. The easy camaraderie between her and Bill springing up without either one of them even trying. Lee, stiff and formal with his father, relaxed with her, laughing, challenging her assumptions, watching Starbuck with awe whenever she wasn’t looking. Zac, late as apparently he always was, bursting in like a ray of sunshine, happy to meet Laura, happy to have everyone together and getting along. Zac, treating Laura with respect, treating Kara as an older sister, while he ragged on his older brother and gazed at his father like he was an ancient and mighty god.</p><p>The ease they felt with each other, almost immediately, the simple dinner turning into something more. A meeting of family. Though she felt out her depth regarding the family business, flying, she did her best to catch up, and did so, fast. When they started talking about the simulations, though, she got the impression it was part of the underlying tension she could feel between Lee and his father. It turns out the sims Lee and Kara had flown last week were…</p><p>‘Stupendous.’ Zac supplied.</p><p>She stared. Did Kara blush? She hadn’t even been sure that was possible.</p><p>‘We did good, Apollo.’</p><p>She addressed Lee, trying to be cool, but she was looking at Bill, her blatant need for his affirmation shining through in her eyes. Laura was confused. She’d thought they’d only met last week, so why did she feel like Kara looked at Bill like she was the long-lost daughter he’d never had…</p><p>He was right, too. There was something about Kara and Lee, something in the way they looked at each other, looked at Bill and her, something in their eyes, the ways they held each other… It wasn’t something she saw often, other than in Bill… Like they’d seen things… things no one should have seen, things they’d done which had marked them, marked them as… veterans? No, that couldn’t be right.</p><p>Then why did she feel it?</p><p>Bill was smiling at his… kids. Yes, his kids. A smile he normally reserved for when he was completely at ease. She hadn’t seen that smile since Lee had met them at the door. Now he was completely relaxed, at ease with Lee, at ease the way he’d been instinctively with Zac and Kara.</p><p>‘I would’ve loved to have seen that.’</p><p>Even Lee got sucked into the need to impress his father.</p><p>‘Wish you could have.’ He smiled his quiet smile.</p><p>‘You’re a pilot, right?’ Laura looked at Bill. ‘You should show them how it’s done.’</p><p>He smiled. She saw the sadness. ‘Wish I could.’</p><p>‘You couldn’t? Why not?’</p><p>‘Not really a flyboy anymore…’</p><p>She leaned in. ‘Calling bullshit.’</p><p>‘Laura…’</p><p>‘You’re telling me they’d turn you down? The famous Husker?’</p><p>‘No, but, it’s really not a good idea –’</p><p>Lee cut in, ‘It would actually be kinda cool…’</p><p>Zac chimed in, ‘Yeah!’</p><p>Kara looked at him shyly. ‘Maybe you could call in a favor, I mean, it would be really great for the new cadets.’</p><p>Bill looked at her somewhat strangely.</p><p>Looking to break the tension, Laura jumped in again. ‘You’re telling me they wouldn’t do a favor for you? Commander of a Battlestar, that’s gotta pull some weight…’</p><p>‘Maybe.’ Bill still looked dubious but she thought the pleas of his kids might be getting to him.</p><p>‘Seriously, sir.’ Kara chipped in. ‘We’ll talk to the Major, you could come in tomorrow, 0600.’</p><p>‘0600. All right, if the Major’s in.’</p><p>Lee looked at his father, for once as if like he was the flyboy hero of his youthful dreams. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, let you know it’s a go.’</p><p>‘‘kay.’</p><p>‘You’ll let me know, too, right?’ Laura wasn’t going to miss this.</p><p>‘0600, right? As long as we stop for coffee on the way.’ She smiled at Bill. ‘I’m not much of a morning person.’</p><p>She smirked. ‘I need my beauty sleep.’</p><p>This time it was the slow, deep, rich laugh that exposed his pearly white teeth. ‘Now, we know that’s not true.’</p><p>They shared a look, conscious of the attention they were receiving from the three younger adults.</p><p>She blushed, ducking her head to avoid his eyes.</p><p>‘Well. That's nice to hear.’</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>